


Greatest Hits

by Rage_Monster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel Whump, Destiel (if you squint), Headcanon, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Protective/worried Dean, i hope these tags are right, s11 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rage_Monster/pseuds/Rage_Monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer punishes Cas for taking control by showing him a Greatest Hits of his failures, Clockwork Orange style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greatest Hits

It isn't so bad at first, sharing a vessel with Lucifer. Mostly quiet, somewhat peaceful, as if his brother has forgotten about him in his excitement at being free. He felt that - pure _elation_ \- the moment Lucifer took the wheel. It is addictive, something he hasn't felt in so long, he is happy to be free of the suffocating weight of responsibility. Happy to know that he is providing the means to win this war.

Beneath the haze of the semi-psychotic inner ramblings of the Archangel, Cas is content. No more blindly scrabbling for the best solution in a miasma of shitty options – lost. Now, content.

For a time.

 

\----------------------

 

But. Oh, he was lost, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, one time God. More than once he’d wished he hadn’t…

“Oh brother, do stop. I’m trying to enjoy this park and your self-flagellation is ruining it. Why can’t you just enjoy the fact that you can be at peace for once in your sad little existence.”

Pause. A quiver of anticipation runs down his (Lucifer’s) spine. “Oh boy this is going to be fun!”

Cas can’t see, Lucifer has cut off his ability to observe. It makes Cas feel… incomplete. This vessel is _his_. It has been his for so long – years; giving up control of it was now distinctly unsettling.

“Watch this, brother.” The optical nerve flared, Cas streams forward, knowing what he will see will be unpleasant; still unable to stop, desperate for contact with the outside world.

 

\----------------------

 

Cas tried, then. Tried to stop Lucifer (Cas) exploding another angel. This one wouldn’t be brought back. _Why had_ he _been brought back?_

He tried, and failed to reason with his brother. Another one he couldn’t save. An endless life of _failures_.

 “Stop.” Lucifer licks the blood off his (Cas’) fingers. Cas can taste it in the back of his (Lucifer’s) throat.

 

_Shudders_

 

“Little brother,” a giggle, “you are so _pure_ still. how? Your little human must have corru…”

A flash of pain and regret - that little black ball of unrequited _something_ that threatens to rise up and choke him on a daily basis – catches Lucifer’s attention.

“Oh. Oh my. He doesn’t even _know_.” Laughing now. Lucifer hasn’t bothered to examine Castiel, these first few days. He rifles through Cas’ memories now and Cas is unable to stop him. Squirms and twists, flails against the merciless invasion _._ Memories appear, unbidden.

 

Dean. Dean. Dean. _Dean._

 

“Oh this just gets better and better. You’re in love. You love the filthy little human. Oh, this will be _hilarious._ ” Snarling. “Disgusting, Castiel. You are an _Angel of the Lord._ You are so far gone, fallen even further than I. Oh, and you didn’t even fall, did you Castiel. You weren’t pushed. You _leapt._ ”

It seemed Lucifer can't even bring himself to acknowledge Castiel’s existence now. Pushes him into a black room. Pity and disdain - stabbing, sharp - taints his consciousness. Lucifer himself can barely stand to touch Castiel.

Cas batters himself against the walls, when he can find them. It never helps, the walls retreat upon his touch, tantalisingly slow, egging him forward.

Then faster until he can’t keep up.

 

Hopeless.

 

Castiel gave himself up to the deep, unending, unnerving blackness, expansive in it’s endlessness.

 

\----------------------

 

Lucifer’s voice pierces the darkness, “Oh, brother! Lookit, your plaything thinks I’m you. He trusts you _soooo_ much Castiel, Dad knows why after all those lies and betrayals.”

Green eyes. Whiskey and leather. _Dean_.

“Maybe this is a good thing.” He feels himself say. No, no Dean it’s not me, _run._ It’s not me, _fight._ It’s not me, _stab._ It’s not me, _kickscreampunchrun._ It’s not me it’snotmeit’snotmeit’s notme _run_ it’snotme…

“He can’t hear you!” Sing-song, taunting.

 

Black.

 

\----------------------

 

Castiel feels the power, even through the black. It zings across his consciousness, giving him strength. He swarms against the walls, tears them down. Pulls himself into wakefulness by sheer force, bolstered by the supernova blazing into the vessel. The bunker lights harshly bright against his new eyes. _How?_

Watching as his fingers sink further into Sam's stomach, white-blue glow of soul seeping between his fingers. He would _never!_

Sam screams. Castiel panics. _What!?_

He feels the eerie whiteness in his core. It wraps around him like a snake. He _attacks. Viciously_ wages war against the white light, endlessly corrupted. Wrong for something so bright. _Hateful_ to it’s extremities.

 

Kicks, claws and screams his way through its walls.

 

“Hello, Castiel.”

Lucifer. _Beaten._ Cas wraps himself around the light. Shaking with effort, cringing away and towards the wrongness, trying to contain it. Information seeps through.

Dean – stuck on a submarine in the past in search of a Hand of God.

Sam – splattered in artful patterns across the bunker. Blood dripping to the floor. _Plink. Plink._ Plink. Puddles spreading at his feet. Chunks of… no, that hadn’t happened.

 

Sam’s face swims into focus, cringing away, fear etched into every facet of his features. Cas feels himself speak.

“It’s me Sam.” How does he remember how to do this?

“Cas? Why?”

“I wanted to be of service to the fight.” Lucifer is fighting, twisting, light searching for freedom. He clamps down.

“Cas, throw him out.” Pleading.

“We need him to save Dean.” His one true purpose.

Realisation dawns on Sam’s face. The final puzzle piece fell into place, Cas could see it behind his eyes, a spark of triumph – he was _right_. Sam’s face crumpled in sadness.

 

He releases his hold on the light, it surges forward, slicing, cutting. Castiel screamed into the void.

 

Black.

 

\----------------------

 

Castiel had thought that the blackness was bad. That was outright _peaceful._ For Lucifer has knocked together a "Greatest Hits" movie – all of Castiel's worst mistakes and failures bundled into one convenient package, playing on loop, just for him.

“I got this idea from A Clockwork Orange, Castiel, pulled it out of your noggin.” Taunting, giggling. Fury simmered underneath, _stupid,_ touching a soul.

Cas hates that he knows that – has given Lucifer the inspiration for this, all these useless facts scratching around in his mind, an unwanted gift, constant reminders of Metatron. Should have ended him…

“Pathetic, Castiel, you never could. You hold all those deaths close to your chest, guilt is such a _human_ emotion, little brother.” Big brother Luci, trying to teach him a lesson.

Even then, it wasn't so bad, it wasn't anything Cas hadn't done to himself before, in the quiet gloaming of pre-dawn, the in between moments.

 

Dean’s face, bloodied, swollen. Cas’ fist, flesh enwrapped blade meeting bone with a wet _thwack_.

“I need you.”

 

Dean, defending him, wrong. But loyal to the end.

 

Sinking his weapon into yet another angel, all to protect this righteous man, who threw careless, scornful remarks at him like daggers.

 

All those people in that office with the gaudy red, white and blue posters. Vote 1! Spattered with blood, that same toothy grin staring down from all angles, observing the carnage. Copper tanged in the back of his throat, red seeped into his pores. _Dean._

 

\----------------------

 

"I'm going to _break_ you, Castiel. You thought absorbing Sam's memories of the cage was hard. You went a little loopy then didn't you? Off chasing bees. Until your precious Dean needed you to fight."   
A breath.   
"Pathetic." Venomous, unforgiving. "I'm going to show you the truth Castiel. Your little human doesn't _care_."

And then, then… it gets worse. Unbearable. 

Flitting images now, moments in time. Embarrassingly, mostly Dean's face, flickering like a faulty light bulb.

 

Castiel is transported back to Purgatory, the moment he’d ripped his hand away from Dean's. Portal collapsing away, pulling Dean with it, face contorted with disbelief. Cas hadn't known if he'd ever see Dean again. He'd spent at least a day sitting frozen in that spot until the Leviathan had found him, pulsing beacon of his grace betraying him.

He’d wondered, vaguely, if there was a part of him that wasn’t constantly seeking to betray him in one way or another.

 

Dean, on his knees. Bloody, beaten _again_. At Castiel’s hands. Fingers weakly grasping the sleeve of the damn trench coat.

“I need you.”

The blade had slipped from his fingers, silence roaring in his ears as Naomi’s sterile, faithless office _finally_ fades from his consciousness.

Reaching forward, palm open. Slow, gentle. Dean _flinched_ away, “Cas, no.” Voice cracked, scared. Actually scared of Castiel. Cas’ very essence splintered at the realisation, fragments scattering apart. Cas doesn’t think he’ll feel whole again. He had watched civilisations crumble – caused it, more than once. He’s witnessed the destruction of the world at his Father’s hands. Yet this moment, this fragment of time from the eons of his existence, this was something he knew would haunt him forever.

He’d caught Dean’s face in the palm of his hand, fingers grazing Dean’s cheek. A quick surge of grace flowed through his touch, Dean’s face whole and clean again.

_When had he strayed from using two fingers to the forehead to heal Dean?_

He couldn’t stay though, never could stay. This human, the one he’d move (had moved) Heaven and Hell to save, he wasn’t allowed a single moment of peace to just exist, side by side, not even a moment to try to make this right.

  

Leviathan roiling in his belly, Dean’s look of horror as Cas tried and failed to hold them back. Felt them clamber over and around his grace, eating him alive from the inside.

 

Running down the alley after the petrified human female, red blazing in his periphery – her screams echoing.

 

Sinking his blade into Balthazar, wrath searing through him at the betrayal.

 

“You have to leave, Cas.” Dean’s face was carefully blank. Typically, just when Cas had naively thought _maybe_ there was a chance for him to feel like he belonged again, had a place to call home for the first time in years. Reality bit.

He’d thought, then, his human heart was going to crawl up his throat and throw itself at Dean’s feet.

 

Standing in some dusty motel parking lot, lit by flickering harsh neon signs. Raw power emanating from a place on Dean’s arm, Cas’ fingers curled around his palm. He’d already known what he’d find, as he roughly pushed up Dean’s sleeve. Knowing didn’t seem to help, Cas had barely kept his voice level after seeing that cursed Mark embedded in Dean’s skin, his _soul_.

_Why did the world conspire to keep him away from this human, the brightest soul he’d ever witnessed – the world couldn’t just_ once _allow Castiel to be there at the right time._

\------------------

 

Each moment flashes countless times into Cas’ consciousness. Each lasting no more than a few seconds, playing on repeat. Again, again Cas is forced to relive these memories, moments stretched out to eons; time slowed to a glacial pace. Castiel breaks apart in some new way after every iteration of these old memories. Fractures in ways he’s never thought possible.

The glowing grace that was, at some point in time, known as the angel Castiel, wobbles and blurs – fuzzes at the edges, expands, contracts. Spikes of light spark from the edges. It pulses in some corner of the vessel, bright beacon fading and blazing erratically.

Every painful detail of each of these moments has seared itself into the grace, until it becomes entirely comprised of these memories. It is unaware of the times Dean Winchester had smiled gratefully at it, green eyes sparkling with something that seemed like love. It did not recall the times spent in companionship with fellow angels. The time that Sam Winchester had embraced it’s vessel in thanks did not exist.

 

\---------------------

 

“You’re friggin pathetic, Castiel! You’re nothing but a tool for us. We don’t have use for you anymore; you went and lost your grace. Why would we want you around?” Dean had screamed at him, face contorted in anger, disgust. “Get out, you’re not our friend – you never were. You were always just a means to an end.”

“Dean.” Cas’ voice gruff, cracked. Pleading.

“You literally have 5 seconds to get your shit and get out of my sight Castiel, or so help me I will shoot you where you stand.” Voice ice cold now, not a threat – a promise.

 

\---------------------

 

The Grace wasn’t sure if this was a memory – then, how could it not be? Surely, no one could want him around after all the atrocities it had committed. No, ‘friend’ was not a word used in reference to this Grace.

 

\---------------------

 

Dean, laughing. “Castiel, oh this is just what you deserve. All those innocent people are dead cause of you. Your vessel isn’t gonna survive this. You aren’t gonna survive this - all those souls are gonna rip your grace apart – and, trust me when I say, that is the best outcome for everyone involved. I hope it hurts – I hope you _scream._ ” Venom dripped from every syllable now, no hint of amusement in those crystalline green eyes. Just pure loathing.

 

A prayer – _Castiel, you utter_ coward _first you unleash Leviathan on the world, then you get me sent to Purgatory, then you_ abandon me. _I’m going to find you and I’m going to use every trick I ever learned from Alastair. Then, Castiel, then I’m going to leave you, ripped apart, for Leviathan to find you. I will make sure you are still alive when they devour you._

Castiel could feel the hatred seeping through the transmission, could feel that Dean hated him with the very essence of his being.

Dean prayed to him, almost word for word, every night. Every prayer carrying the same promise. Eventually, Cas stopped running and just sat and waited. Knew the monsters would eventually lead Dean to him and came to know that this punishment was what he deserved.

 

Cas lay on the floor of the destroyed bunker library, covered in blood, choking on it. Dean had beaten him mercilessly in response to Cas’ declaration that he would stay by his side until the end of time, even if it meant watching the human he had come to love murder the world. Cas had pleaded, begged, surrendered.

“Dean, please.” He watched, with an abstract sort of curiousity as Dean sank the angel blade into him. Cas’ grace rushed to heal the wound, more and more power building within as it failed.

“Dean!” Cas gasped, “Get away!” his voice shook with effort as he palmed Dean to the floor.

“Shut your eyes!”

Cas’ grace went to work to try to heal the mortal wound. As it tried and failed, more and more power built until Cas could not contain it. Cas searched for one last glimpse. The last thing he saw before everything went white was green orbs shining with triumph.

  

“I don’t care that you’ve fallen, Castiel. You made that choice. It’s clear to me the best thing all around is for me to say yes to Michael, end this now. None of it matters anymore. We can’t fight this, you backed the wrong team!” Dean grabbed him by the collar, shoved him roughly into a filthy, graffitied wall. Right up close in Cas’ face, noses almost touching.

“I wish you’d never pulled me outta Hell, I wish I’d never met you.” Snarling, despair glinting in those green eyes.

Cas took a ragged breath, an almost sob.

A sneer curled Dean’s lip as he took a step back, hurled Castiel back again into the wall. Whump! All the air left Cas’ lungs as he slumped down, into a puddle of God knew what leaking from a nearby dumpster.

“Pathetic.” A soft huff of laughter, “I wish I’d never met you, Castiel.” Dean practically spat the words. Turned away and stalked down the alley, away from Castiel.

 

It started to rain.

 

\----------------------

 

“Cas!”

_This can’t be real, I don’t know that name anymore. I used to, maybe, years ago. I don’t know that voice. It’s not him, it’s not him. Not those words, not that name, not that_ kind. _It’s not him. This is fake, a trick._

He curled in on himself, couldn’t fight this new hell. Dean was just going to yell at him again, just a trick.

_Go away, go away, go awaygoawaygoawaygoaway…_

Dean had finally found Castiel, had wandered into a familiar labyrinth of alleys, following the sound of his own voice, screaming things he’d never said, to the very alleyway where Cas had beaten the spit out of him, saving him, saving him.

“Oh my God, Cas, what has he done to you? Cas, buddy, can you hear me? We gotta run, we gotta keep moving, he’ll find us soon.”

_getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout_

 

Dean reaches Cas, curled pitifully on the ground. The angel has somehow compressed himself into a tiny little ball, shaking pathetically.

“Cas. Cas, buddy, I don’t know what to do! What has he _done_ to you!”

Castiel just somehow curls himself tighter, just waiting for the blows to start raining down as they always do when Dean starts yelling.

 

Dean reaches out slowly to softly touch the angel’s shoulder. “C-Cas?” Quietly now, trying and failing to keep his voice steady and calm. His favoured method of tough love – yelling and shaking by the shoulders – wasn’t going to work now.

Cas is more broken than Dean has ever seen him. God, it's worse than when he’d taken Sam’s Hell into himself. Dean couldn’t stand watching then, as his angel had shaken apart in front of him almost immediately.

That multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, who’d gone to Hell and back for him, who’d _always_ come when he’d called, bled for him, died for him, had stood by his side while the world ended, had fallen to pieces. And Dean had barely survived that, he’d just gotten his angel back only to lose him again. The veneer of bravado he kept up had cracked a little more then, tissue paper thin.

Sam losing his mind had been hard, it had been horrible, heartbreaking. But Sam was _human_ and therefore fallible, vulnerable.

Cas was an _angel_ , he was _unstoppable_ , a force of nature, and yet, he had _broken_.

 

And this is _worse_.

 

“Cas, I need you to look at me, please buddy, just look at me.” Softly, softly…

_Maybe, maybe it would be ok to look at him. Just a glimpse, maybe he won’t be so angry this time. He sounds calm, maybe he won’t start yelling straight away. is it worth the risk? To get a glimpse of those green eyes not clouded with disgust, just once? He barely remembers what that was like. Maybe he had just imagined it, in the haze of screaming and hate, he had quite probably imagined those green eyes looking at him with anything but contempt. This was likely just another imagining, but_ maybe _this time he could hold onto it, use it like an anchor in a storm when the onslaught begins again._

 

Dean isn’t sure, but he thinks he feels the angel shift. It is hard to tell, the shoulder under his hand is shaking so badly he thinks Castiel is going to vibrate to pieces before his eyes.

“Cas?” He curses under his breath as he heard his voice crack, thick with emotion. _Stay calm, Dean, Cas needs you to be calm._ He takes  a deep breath, swallowed. Fear scrapes his throat, bile rising. Another deep breath.

“Cas, it’s ok, it’s ok, I’m here buddy. Whatever he’s done to you, we’ll help you. I’ll help you. We’ll work it out together, I’m not here to hurt you.”  

_Lies. He’s definitely lying. I’ll still get a glimpse, hopefully, before he starts yelling again. Just one moment where there’s not hate in those eyes. Yes, it’s worth it._

 

Finally. Finally the angel unwinds himself. Slowly, slowly, Castiel brings his eyes to Deans.

Dean feels the breath punch out of him, physically rocks back on his heels; almost vomits. Can’t breathe at _all_. He is suffocating, captured in azure blue. _So much pain, oceans of fear._ Those eyes, they don’t belong to his angel. They don’t belong in that face, not in that body. Not _his_ angel. Dean can feel Cas’ grace, somehow, can see it behind his eyes. It is _wrong_ , he can feel pain and suffering rippling through every facet of Cas’ essence. God, Lucifer is going to pay – archangel be damned.

 He forces himself to speak, barely a whisper - there’s no air left in his lungs.

“Cas, it’s me. It’s really me, I’m here, I’m here. I’m not gonna hurt you, not gonna hurt you. It’s ok, buddy, I’m here – it’s me, it’s Dean.” He keeps his hand on Cas’ shoulder, thumb rubbing tiny circles in the dip of the angel’s collarbone.

“Cas, I need you to stand up with me now, I really do. I know it’s hard buddy, please, we gotta move.”

 

_Dean is still being kind. Dean is not yelling at me. His_ eyes _. I need to hold on to this, remember this, don’t forget, you don’t know how long it’s gonna last, gotta keep him happy. Do what he says._

Cas makes an abortive movement towards him. Dean catches him under the arms, just barely. “Ok buddy, I got you. I got you Cas.”

He hauls the angel to his feet, slings an arm around his waist. “Ok, Cas, let’s go. Just walk for now, ‘kay? I’ll help you walk.”

_I’ll help you walk, I’ll erase that pain from your eyes. I’ll help you outta here, never gonna leave you again, Cas._

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’msorryi’msorryi’msorryi’msorryi’mso _sorry_ , Dean, I’m so sorry, I’msorry.” Cas starts speaking, a litany of apologies streams from his mouth, whispered, prayerful. “Please don’t be angry, Dean, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Shhhh, Cas, it’s ok, I’m not angry.” Dean curses inwardly as his voice cracks, _again._ He just has to keep it together long enough to figure out what's up with Cas, convince him to throw Lucifer out. Him and Sam gone through countless options, discussed at length whether this would even work. The vessel is physically trapped, a double ring of holy fire, bolstered with sigils and the manacles they had used on Crowley. They’d also used that terrible head contraption to try and pick apart Lucifer. All of it just a distraction while Dean snuck into the vessel.

Dean is just hoping it will be enough.

Sam is currently doing his best to keep Lucifer occupied. It had taken Dean such a long time to find Cas – running around inside Lucifer’s head had risen quickly to pole position on the long list of things Dean never wanted to do again.

 

Cas still hasn’t let up with the string of hoarse ‘sorrys’, interspersed with pleas for Dean to not be angry, to forgive him.

“Cas, buddy, let’s just sit for a bit okay? I gotta tell you some stuff, you might not understand straight away, but you gotta trust me ok? Can you do that?”

“Dean… what?” Cas looks at him, confusion rising in his eyes.

“It’s ok, Cas, just… look, just. Here.” He pulls Cas’ arm away from his shoulders and lowers the still shaky angel to the pavement. “Alright, buddy, you’re okay. Look at me?”

Blue met green. Again, Dean’s breath is stolen away by the sheer pain in Cas’ eyes, shining with almost tears. _God, he’s so confused. Hurt, lost and confused. How on Earth am I gonna convince him? Maybe just lay it out, nice and simple._

Dean takes a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. “Okay, Cas, I need you to listen to me right now. I need you to trust me. Can you try to do that for me, buddy?”

 

_Why was Dean still being so nice? Trust him… trust that man? Red flashes of Dean’s fist colliding with his face, screaming horrible things. Trust that? Surely, it was just a trick. Any moment now Dean is going to turn on me._

Cas folds in on himself again, whispering something under his breath. Dean keels down beside his ruined angel in the damp, dirty gutter. Rain hazes around him as he strains to hear the words between the jagged breaths.

 

“Justatrickjustatrickjustatrickjustatrickjustatrick…” Cas intones, quieter than the sorrys, barely audible over the soft patter of rain on the cement.

Dean tentatively reaches a shaking hand towards the angel, but Cas flinches away from the touch. _Crap, you screwed it up Winchester, how you gonna fix this?_ His brow furrows, hand reaching up unconsciously to rub the back of his neck. How could he reach his angel? An idea flares inside his brain, it is a risk – Lucifer might hear, it might not even work, but he has to try.

“Okay, Cas, alright. I don’t know how else to get through to you, buddy.”

 

Dean closes his eyes. Crouching there in a puddle on the rough bitumen, as cold rainwater seeps into his jeans, Dean begins to pray.

_Castiel. Cas, you got your ears on? I’m here buddy, I’m here. I’m right next to you, I’m not here to hurt you, or trick you, I’m here to save you Cas. I’m gonna save you. I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s me, it’s Dean. Your Dean. I saved your damn coat, remember? That ugly, ridiculous trench, I schlepped it around in all those different cars for nearly a year. I’m not here to trick you._

_Remember when I found you in Purgatory? That was the first time I’d smiled since we got to that hellhole. I never thought I’d smile again. Jeez, Cas, seeing you there by that stream? I thought my face was gonna crack. Cas, you’re family. Come back to me, come back to me, angel._

 

Dean punctuates each memory with an image.

The only sound, now, is the drumming of the rain, slapping against the wet concrete.

 

_Cas, I need you. Remember what I said? I’d rather have you, cursed or not. I meant that. We’re gonna get through this – you, me, and Sammy. Just like we always have. I need you to trust me, buddy. I need you with me, always._

The prayer morphs into something more than words now. Dean knows this is possibly the only way to get Cas to trust him enough to believe that Lucifer needs to be expelled. Dean lets down his tissue paper walls. As they melt away, all the emotions he’d beaten down come rushing forward.

 

His disbelieving gratitude when Cas had fallen, that first time, to help them pull the rug from under God’s plans. The fear he’d felt when everyone he’d considered family had died in Stull Cemetery and the overwhelming relief when he’d looked up into the sun to see Cas’ face looking down at him.

Whipping away from the mirror, in that crappy motel bathroom, to see Cas’ dirt streaked scruff _there_ , in front of him, not a hallucination, so many emotions clawing through him he could barely stay standing. The way he’d felt a piece of him missing in that horrible time after he’d sent Cas away from the bunker.

As all these memories and emotions rose up within him, something else floated to the top – powerful and insistent. It overwhelmed him, he almost collapsed forward onto Cas. He shoved a hand forward to brace himself, landed on the angel’s shoulder, gripped it tight.

_Cas, Castiel, Castiel. Do you feel that? That’s the truth. Everything I have. Please, please just trust me. Help me save you._

 

Under Dean’s hand, the angel has stopped shivering. Dean opens his eyes, glances at Cas. Piercing blue eyes stare up at him through a mess of rain-soaked hair. They still have that caged animal look to them, but something tinges at the edges, something like hope.

“Dean.” Cas’ voice still barely more than a whisper, rough with disuse. “Dean, I felt it. Why did you…” a ragged breath. “No, you can’t feel like that and have done those things. Dean, why is there a lie inside my head?”

 

Dean is still reeling from the revelation that has just occurred. He pulled himself together, _gotta focus on Cas, focus on the problem at hand. Deal with it later._

“Cas, you trust me?”

“Yes, Dean. I trust you.” Shaky, but firm.

 “Okay. Cas, a couple of months ago, you said yes to Lucifer. Lucifer is in your vessel. You need to kick him out, ok? Can you do that?”

“L… Lucifer?” Cas’ stutters, blue eyes clouded with confusion.

“Yeah, buddy. Lucifer’s around here somewhere, but you gotta get rid of him, ok? You gotta tell him to get out.” Dean tries, and fails, to keep his voice level. “Cas, do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Okay, Dean.” Cas closed his eyes.

 

Bright light surges at the edges of the city block and rushes towards them both; the pavement shakes apart beneath them. The buildings start to crumble as white light surrounds them.

\---------------------

Dean opens his eyes. He is back in his own body. Shaky, he rolls over. There’s Cas’ vessel sitting in the chair, still surrounded by holy fire. He looks at Sam, unasked question in his eyes. Sam just nods, a small smile quirking at the edge of his mouth as he douses the flames.

Dean hauls himself to his feet, stumbles over to Cas. Hands fumbling to undo the chains, he gently eases the horrid contraption from the angel’s skull.

“Cas, you’re back. It’s over, I’m here, we’re here.”

“Dean, what…?”

Dean wraps his arms around Cas. His legs fold underneath him as Cas slips forward from the chair. They both slide to the ground, an uncoordinated tangle of limbs.

“I’m here Cas. It’s ok, you’re okay now, I’m still here.” His hand, unbidden, finds it’s way to Cas’ head, softly combing through his hair, down his neck, fingers bumping over the little knobs of his spine. The other arm wraps around his middle, legs a jumble, somehow enveloping Cas.

 

“Shhhh, buddy, it’s over, it’s over.” His breath is shaky with relief, lungs shuddering as they struggled to draw in air.

Cas shakes apart in his arms and Dean holds on tight. It is going to take a long time to undo the damage Lucifer has wrought on Cas, but Dean knows he won’t let his angel feel like he is alone ever again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SPN fic, please let me know what you think. I have a thick skin so be honest!


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